| |
|
|
| |
Recipe for revelry
Written by : Stephen Spark
Location : London
Photographer : Stephen Spark
Posted : Sep 3, 2007 : 7:36:54 AM |
|
| |
|
|
| |
Flour, eggs and water – the perfect ingredients for Jouvert bacchanal! Red paint, though, is a bit more problematic. Apparently rather a lot of it found its way over a senior police officer’s head last year, causing a collective sense of humour failure on the part of the Met. Jouvert, people confidently asserted in the days before Carnival, was cancelled. But something in the air, or perhaps the glint in Pepe’s eye, suggested otherwise.
I duly booked a minicab for the unreal hour of 5.15 am, in the hope that something would be happening at the top end of Ladbroke Grove. And indeed, even at 5.30, there was a gaggle of revellers by the Sainsbury’s roundabout, although they were outnumbered by a heavy contingent of serious-looking police. Clearly, the passage of a year had failed to repair their good humour.
The crowd swelled as 6am came and went, and powder began to fly, but somebody missing. Well, quite a few “somebodies” – in fact the whole Ebony truck. Surely they knew the way by now? Eventually, just before 7am the Ebony crew came up the Grove playing “My Way”, went round the roundabout and Jouvert was on its way, as large as life and twice as dirty. Keeping the Panorama winners company were Frank Rollock’s London All Stars, Real Steel, smart in their Royal Navy T-shirts, the Engine Room, plugging the benefits of Caribbean bananas, and another small rhythm section that seemed to be operating under a cloak of anonymity.
The mellowness of the morning, the sweetness of the steelpan and the quietness of the streets all created a laid-back, good-humoured atmosphere as we chipped down the Grove. The Boys in Blue – who once again failed to dress for the occasion – had relaxed by now and left us alone. Some revellers stayed loyal to one steelband, others changed allegiance as the mood took them, but soon all were showing scars from the battle raging around them, ghostlike with powder or streaked hideously like escapees from a Hammer Horror movie.
Through all this mayhem, a few foolhardy souls attempted to go about their ordinary business, braving the multi-coloured crossfire, the eruptions of flour and sniper shots from water pistols. Somehow, all escaped unscathed, a tribute to the good sense of the revellers, who were clearly determined not to give the police any excuse to tighten the screw. And that’s important, because Jouvert seems to embody more of the true spirit of Carnival than the ring-fenced, police-patrolled, media-hyped daytime processions. Long may it stay free.
If you’ve never experienced Jouvert at Notting Hill, set the alarm early on Carnival Sunday morning, dress in something disreputable, arm yourself with anything messy (but harmless!) to fling over your friends and get down to the starting point by 6am. It finishes around 9am, so you should even have time to clean up before catching Children’s Day. Just expect some strange looks when you go home on the bus or the tube afterwards! |
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
![]() |
|
![]() |
| [an error occurred while processing this directive] |
| |
|
|
|
![]() |
| |
|
|
|
![]() |
| |
|
|
|
![]() |
| |
|
|
|
![]() |
| |
|
|
|
![]() |
|
|
